


Death Becomes Him

by pint



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, but still a little slashy, everything I write is short, i know you know he knows, not really slashy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pint/pseuds/pint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If I were braver, the kink meme prompt on hair would have led me to a sex scene since that's the traditional metaphor...</p>
<p>Mine's a little different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Becomes Him

Sometimes Will feels that Hannibal's hair is the only part of him that is human. It's ironic, because he knows the follicles represent death hovering across his scalp; it's why he prefers it when Hannibal's careful hands have slicked it back so precisely with just the right touch of gel. Will, on the other hand, has death in his eyes and on his forehead, and it fits for his hair to match.

But Hannibal's hair is the only part of him that reflects feeling the way that normal humans do. It sweeps to the side at dinner parties like true emotions hidden behind a veneer of politeness and manners for the sake of the event; at work, it is drawn away from his face to represent his ability to separate himself from the base crudity of normal men. In his office, when Tobias Budge's corpse lies bleeding and broken at his feet, it hangs matted and limp in his eyes like the herald of the angel of death he is.

Will's breath catches as he steps into the office, eyes skipping over the bodies on the floor briefly before alighting on the slightly hunched form of his personal devil, his only friend. _No, Dr. Lecter,_ he thinks, frozen in horror. _They'll see it. They'll see what you really are._ And this is one thing he can't imagine even with his wondrous mind--Hannibal's secret is his and his alone, for him to carry behind his floppy brown curls cloaked behind his own pungent shadow of death.

"I was worried you were dead," Hannibal says, and Will could kiss him for being so perfectly vulnerable in this moment, so convincingly a victim and an empath who is delighted to see that Will is safe. His offering is, instead, just as meaningful; he crosses the destruction of the office in a few quick strides and moves fast before better judgment can change his mind. 

Hannibal's brows crease in a bemused frown as Will's fingers sweep lightly across the crown of his head, brushing back the sweaty locks. "There," Will's lips move soundlessly and his fingers quickly retrace the movement, fast and flighty so that it looks like a nervous tic instead of the gesture it really is. Their eyes meet quickly, and Hannibal sees it, the flash of knowing burning behind blue eyes that Will fights so hard to hide. Will opens his mouth to say something else, to promise that no, he won't tell, he never did, that he will always keep his secret-

"Tobias Budge killed two Baltimore police officers," Jack begins, having just turned back towards them after surveying the bodies himself. It's a tossup for who desires to strangle him more in this moment, but they rip their gazes apart and settle back, practiced enough in their personas to resume acting as though nothing has ever happened. But the quick slide of Hannibal's fingers across Will's knee as he leans forward to answer is a deliberate promise. Whether it signals their last meal together or their first one _together_ could also be two sides of a coin, but Will is already tempered by death and his coin has two heads full of hair.


End file.
